A City of Brick
by Pilla Jeffrey
Summary: Reyna's journey from spa attendant to Roman praetor.  Reyna-centric, eventual Reyna/Jason. UPDATED: "Apparently being a daughter of the Goddess of War did not prepare her for affairs of the heart."
1. Part One: Circe

**TITLE**: A City of Brick

**AUTHOR**: Pilla Jeffrey

**CATEGORY**: Angst, Drama

**CHARACTER/PAIRING**: Reyna, Reyna/Jason

**SPOILERS**: The Sea of Monsters, The Lost Hero, The Son of Neptune

**RATING**: PG-13

**CONTENT WARNINGS**: language, implied sexual content

**SUMMARY**: _Reyna is eight when her father is turned into a guinea pig._ Reyna's journey from spa attendant to Roman praetor.

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own Percy Jackson. Or any of the Olympians.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**: Reyna is a HBIC and I LOVE her. The fact that she was barely in _The Son of Neptune_ is a travesty. So, of course, she deserves her own fan fic of decently epic length. Hopefully I can do justice to her total BAMF-ness.

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><p><strong>Part One: Circe<strong>

i.

Reyna is eight when her father is turned into a guinea pig. Fourteen-year-old Hylla screams and cries but then C.C. places a finger on her lips and Hylla's tears become soundless.

"Now, now. No time for tears over _men_."

She escorts them to their new life as their father shrieks, "Reeet! Reeet! Reeet!"

C.C. puts a demand on beauty, so it's no surprise that she takes a shine to Hylla. Hylla has always been the pretty, desirable sister and C.C. instantly takes her under her wing. Hylla, in turn, treats C.C. as the mother they never knew. Hylla becomes C.C.'s right-hand woman while Reyna skitters along with pockets full of blotting sheets.

Reyna has never felt pretty before—she's just Hylla's awkward little sister, all gangly legs and sharp eyes—and she wonders if she'll ever be anything but unfortunate looking. No matter how much make-up she puts on, she never looks as beautiful as Hylla and Hylla has no qualms reminding her of it.

It's not fair, Reyna thinks. They are both daughters of Bellona, but Hylla is the glory of battle while Reyna is the agony of defeat. What has being a daughter of Bellona ever done for either of them? She looks at the ring she wears around her thumb, the only reminder of a mother she's never met and never loved, and frowns. If only she were a daughter of Venus! Perhaps then she would be of value.

She tries to learn magic, but even there she has no natural gift. She is too hard, too tactical, and, perhaps, too Roman. Magic requires a thirst for knowledge and an earnest soul destined for greatness and Reyna has neither. She manages to master a few beauty parlor tricks, but the best she can do is curl her hair with Greek words that burn her tongue.

Sometimes she visits her father. Always at night, always with small slices of carrot clutched in her palm. She shoos away the other guinea pigs and sticks her hand in. Her father eats ravenously and she pets his silky black fur. She sings _Styx_ to him and tells him about her day and when she's feeling particularly heavy, she empties her soul to him. They were never close when they were both human—he was always too busy trying to get the best story in Vietnam or the Middle East or anywhere but home—but now he nuzzles her fingers when she cries and it makes her miss her old life more than she could ever admit to Hylla.

She has flashes of memories—they feel so long ago, but she knows it's only been weeks and then months and then years—of road trips to Disney World, of Hylla and Daddy fighting over mini skirts, of Mikey Varus kissing her in the playground before smushing her face in the sand.

She misses that kind of stuff— the normal stuff. C.C.'s Spa and Resort may be Elysium on Earth, but there's no normal stuff. No adventure, no family, no boys. She wants to get the hell out of Dodge and just _be normal_, but she can't imagine ever leaving Hylla or Daddy behind. So instead she sorts foundation by shade one day and nail polish by color the next and adventures in shelves upon shelves of prose and dreams that one day it will all change.

When he managed to be at home, her father used to tell her bedtime stories and when he ran out of books and myths, he would tell her about her future. She was going to grow up to be a strong young woman and find a nice boy and fall in love and have a family and a daughter of her own. "I want it all now," she complained impatiently.

"You are a daughter of war, Reyna," her father explained. "The hard work of battle is what makes the victory that much sweeter."

She dreams of love, but wonders if her heart has become too rigid in C.C.'s hands. That, more than anything else, makes her cry.

ii.

"Hylla, are you happy?"

Hylla stops plucking her eyebrows and almost scrunches her nose before she remembers her fight against wrinkles. "Of course I am. Is this about Pardus? I'm sure he's just playing in the fountains."

"No, it's not about Pardus." Reyna bristles that her sister thinks that their leopard missing for an afternoon would be the sum total of her happiness. "I'm being serious, Hylla. Don't you ever miss our old life? Don't you ever miss Grandma and Grandpa?" _Don't you ever miss Daddy?_ is what she wants to say, but the question is moot.

Hylla rolls her eyes and continues to pluck her eyebrows. "Grandma and Grandpa moved to California when you were seven, Reyna. We barely visited them and you barely knew them. Dad was never home and when he was, we were lucky to have tomato soup from a can. And, contrary to popular belief, being the creepy kid kicked out of school for fighting non-existent monsters was not exactly the time of my life, especially when Chris McKellan got the entire seventh grade to call me Weirdo Warden. So no, I don't miss any of it." She sighs. "Anyway, you wouldn't want them to see you like that, would you?"

"Like what?" Reyna asks sharply.

"You could at least dress like you're trying. That's all I'll say," Hylla says, snapping her clutch closed. "C.C. and I are meeting with an investor right now to help us build the new wing. You can clean this all up, can't you?"

Hylla doesn't wait for a response. She just shoots Reyna a dazzling smile and slams the door shut on her way out.

iii.

When Reyna is twelve, a boy and a girl are swept ashore in a tattered rowboat. Both are her age. The girl is pretty with blonde curls and grey eyes and the boy is cute in a ragtag way with dark hair and electric green eyes. She thinks that he will make a very handsome guinea pig.

She watches as Hylla greets them with her perfectly poised airs and leads them to Circe.

While Circe has her way with the boy, Hylla brings the girl to Reyna and snaps in her sister's face. "Time for work, little sister. Deluxe Makeover. Hop to it!"

The girl looks nervous, but content. She's obviously under Circe's influence. Reyna leads her to the sink where she washes her hair with potions and creams. Instantly, the girl's hair becomes blonder, shinier. The girl shifts uncomfortably in her seat, obviously unused to such pampering. "My name is Annabeth," she offers, as a way to distract from her discomfort.

"Reyna." She sits Annabeth up in her chair and waves a hand over her hair. It dries instantly into loose curls. Reyna starts to brush Annabeth's hair and then expertly braids it with gold leaf and thread.

"You're so good at that," Annabeth murmurs jealously. "I'm terrible at all of this girly stuff." She wrinkles her nose at '_girly_'.

Reyna begins to apply foundation perfectly matched to Annabeth's skin. "_The first step to unlocking your true self is admitting that you're not happy the way you are_," Reyna rolls out the practiced line. As she brandishes the brush in front of Annabeth's face, she sees a glimmer of sadness in the blonde girl's eyes. Her brush pauses in its compact. "Honestly, I think you're beautiful. No makeup required."

Annabeth blushes, making her cheeks even redder. "I'm not even close to as pretty as any of the girls here."

"But—" Reyna starts and struggles to catch her tongue. She shouldn't even be thinking this, let alone saying it aloud, but she can't help herself: "No one here has anyone who looks at her like that boy looks at you."

"That's ridiculous," Annabeth scoffs, but her cheeks are now practically on fire. "Percy's just…_Percy_."

Reyna nods, but she doesn't believe her. She's read enough about love to know it when she sees it.

"Do you like to read?" she asks. Hylla doesn't, but perhaps this girl does.

Annabeth's eyes widen. "I _love_ to read. Do you have books here? You know, something other than back issues of _Vogue_?"

Reyna looks at the issue of _Vogue _resting on the desk in front of her. Twiggy looks up with large, painted eyes. "What do you like to read?"

"Oh, everything. Mostly history and architecture. I want to be an architect."

Reyna's been on the island so long that the idea of having a career—let alone wanting one—is foreign to her. What did she want to be so long ago? _A ballerina_, she thinks pityingly. How trite.

She still needs to put on a coat of nail polish and fake eyelashes, but Reyna decides against it. When was the last time she had a friend? "Let's go. I've got so much to show you," she says, taking Annabeth's hand.

They spend the next hour running and laughing through the stacks, throwing books at each other almost as often as they read them. Reyna doesn't let herself think about how happy she is, worried that if she does, the moment will end. After all, this girl doesn't seem like the type who would take very kindly to her boyfriend being turned into a guinea pig.

Hylla comes in and snaps at Reyna for taking Annabeth outside of the main spa. "C.C. wants to see you," she says, gesturing to Annabeth.

As Annabeth and Hylla head out, Reyna's heart thumps in her stomach. It feels like it's the beginning of the end.

iv.

Annabeth takes Circe by a knife to the throat and before Hylla or Reyna or anyone else can cast a spell to disarm her, Annabeth's thrown multivitamins into the cage and up grows her male companion as well as Blackbeard and his crew. "Run her through!" Blackbeard orders and suddenly Reyna's breath is burning against her throat as she runs for her life.

Hylla pulls Reyna in the direction of the docks. "We need to get out of here, Reyna. It's not safe anymore."

Reyna is about to follow her when she realizes what exactly they're leaving behind. "We need to save Daddy," Reyna insists. "I'm not leaving without him."

Hylla grabs her arm and yanks hard. "I don't have time for this, Reyna. We've got to go _now_ or we won't get off the island."

Reyna curses loudly in Greek and her wrist grows hot, scalding Hylla's hand. Hylla hisses and retracts her grip and in that moment of hesitation, Reyna runs back into the spa.

She weaves between tables of towels and massage chairs and manages to scoop up a handful of multivitamins before she heads to the downstairs cages. Hylla is fast on her heels, magicking away any pirate who gets in their way.

They get to the cages and Reyna pinpoints their father right away. She opens the cage, grabs him, and closes the door before any of the other guinea pigs can get out.

"Come on, Reyna, hurry," Hylla demands nervously. "We need to leave."

Reyna offers a multivitamin in her palm and her father eats it hungrily. Suddenly he is growing—morphing—larger and larger until a man in a tattered suit and tangled hair appears. He refuses to turn his face to the light.

"Daddy?" she whispers to the man huddled before her.

"Reyna?" He raises his head and it's him, just as she remembers him, only thinner, sadder. Her heart beats faster.

Reyna runs forward and embraces him, pulling him to a stand. "Come on, Daddy. Let's go."

He fumbles on his legs, the four years of disuse taking their toll, but Reyna offers him her shoulder and Hylla, after a sharp glare from Reyna, offers him hers and they begin their sprint through the spa.

They make it as far as the west fountains when a voice makes Reyna's blood run cold. "What have we here?"

Reyna turns despite herself and comes face-to-face with Blackbeard. His dark hair sticks out in all directions and his mouth is half-full of blackened teeth. He spins a sword in his hand and looks at her with hunger.

His smile turns wicked. "Get 'em, lads."

Suddenly the soldiers charge. Reyna is too surprised to do more than scream and Hylla tries an enchantment without luck. All Reyna can see is a sword coming closer and closer and she can't seem to move—

Her father collapses in front of her and for an instant, she thinks that he's lost his footing again, but then she sees the sword sticking out from his chest. His eyes are wide and unblinking.

Reyna clutches at him, as if she can will him awake. "Daddy? Daddy!" His body Is still warm, but his breath is empty. She doesn't get any last words, any promises, any love. Her heart hardens.

"You did this!" she shrieks at Blackbeard, who has fallen still. "You killed my father!"

"Listen, lass—"

"You. Killed. My. Father." Something ignites in her that has never been lit before. It's something more than anger, more than sadness, more than fear, more than revenge. It's her heart beating in perfect rhythm and her mind clearing. It's knowing that as she pulls the sword from her father's dead body that she can wield it better than anyone else. It's relishing in the fact that she can pin down Blackbeard, son of Ares, and hold a sword to his heart and know that his life is in her perfectly moisturized hands.

She lifts the sword up, ready to take his life like he took her father's. His eyes are sickly and yellow and _she wants to kill him_, but before she can pierce his heart with iron, she feels hands on her shoulders and she's yanked back with such force that the sword clatters to the ground.

As the pirates circle them, Hylla pulls Reyna closer into her embrace. "I won't let you become a killer, Reyna," Hylla whispers, close to tears. "I tried so hard to save you from all of this. I'm so sorry."

The pirates lock them up in chains before they throw their father's body into the sea.

v.

They are prisoners, but most of all, they are alone. Reyna hopes that some of the other attendants survived, but she doubts it. Blackbeard's constant self-satisfied smirk confirms her suspicions.

Reyna cooks and cleans with shackles on her ankles and Hylla wears red lipstick and redder rouge with heels on her feet. They are kept separately, only seeing each other at meal times when Reyna serves food and Hylla has Blackbeard's hand on her thigh. For the first time in her life, Reyna wishes for Circe and her proud mouth and magical hands.

"This is _Percy Jackson's_ fault," Hylla hisses during one of their few moments alone with each other. "I swear I will take vengeance on him. Him and that Annabeth girl. What is she doing aligning herself with men?"

Reyna certainly bears no kindness toward Percy Jackson, but she can't hate him as her sister does. She remembers Annabeth's smile and her father's blank eyes and thinks that she, too, has loved a man enough to do anything for him.

It takes them months, but they arrange a way of escape on bits of napkin. Hylla will distract while Reyna gathers up weapons to fight their way to the docks.

Reyna has spent weeks carving a way out of her chains and finally tonight she will break free. She crushes a poppy into her guard's drink and mixes it with Greek enchantments before she gives it to him at dinner. He falls asleep before he can even lock her cage door.

With speed, Reyna breaks her shackles and runs through the darkened corridors. Her heart hums with the same clarity she found so many months ago—she has a purpose and she will succeed. For the first time in her life, she prays to her mother for help. When she finds the armory unlocked, she finds her prayers answered.

She loads a sword on her back, another on her waist, and a dagger in her hand. It's short but it's sharp and she instantly feels like it's an extension of her body.

She quickly looks both ways down the corridor before running toward the main chamber. She can already hear men screaming and animals roaring—Hylla must have succeeded. Reyna holds the dagger tighter as she draws closer.

When she reaches the main building, she sees lions and eagles and hyenas and elephants rampaging on the marble floors. She stands cautiously in the doorway, waiting for Hylla.

She waits and she waits and time ticks by with agonizing seconds and Hylla is still nowhere to be found. Perhaps she already made it to the docks? Reyna peeks out, trying to pick the best moment to move forward into the fray.

In that instant, Pardus leaps forward, arching his back for a rider. His fur is spotty with uneven growth and his eyes are dull, but he is still her Pardus. She leaps onto him and he takes her away.

Pirates are fighting zoo animals left and right with limited success, but they still have enough wits to notice a girl on a leopard charging toward the docks. Arrows and knifes and gold teeth fly at her head, but she keeps her body flush against Pardus' back and, with a few choice stabs, they manage to escape unscathed.

Pardus' claws stop skittering across marble and instead dig into the wood of the dock. Reyna pulls nervously at the little fur remaining on his neck. "Where's Hylla?" she murmurs.

"If it isn't the little queen herself." This can't be happening. Reyna can feel her father's blood in her throat and she can't breathe.

Blackbeard snarls. "Answer me when I talk, girl." He takes a step closer and Pardus charges him.

A shot rings out and Pardus falls, legs splayed. Reyna clenches her dagger so hard that her nails begin to draw blood from her palm. _Not again_.

Blackbeard laughs and blows away the smoke coming from his gun. "Maybe if you're nice, I'll tell you what I did with your sister."

"You aren't worth my words," she spits out. "Where is Hylla?"

He shrugs with malicious eye. "She's been taken care of."

Reyna draws her dagger and holds it in front of her. It suddenly occurs to her that despite all the pointy weapons she grabbed, she forgot to pick up a shield. Some daughter of a war goddess she is.

"A knife against a gun. You haven't thought this one through, have you, lass?" He takes another step closer to her and Reyna's outstretched arm starts to tremble.

"How about you put down your weapons and I forget this whole thing happened? I won't even force you back into your cage." He gives her a nasty grin. "After all, your sister's gotten old, lass. Perhaps it's time for a newer model."

He is perfectly still for a moment and then, with alacrity, he lunges toward her.

A sword comes through his chest and Reyna has to bite her fist so she doesn't scream. When he falls over, Hylla stands behind him with a stained dress and bloody sword.

"Let's go, Reyna."

They don't look back.

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><p><em>To be continued in <em>**_Part Two: Lupa_**_:_

_"She runs with wolves and gets used to the burning feeling in her lungs and the dirt under her fingernails instead of polish on top of them."_

**Like, Dislike? Let me know and Review!**


	2. Part Two: Lupa

**A/N**: Thank you all for all the very kind reviews! I'm very fond of Reyna and am glad she has a lot of fans in the PJO fandom! I hope you all continue to enjoy her journey in this next chapter. Let me know what you think!**  
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><p><strong>Part Two: Lupa<strong>

i.

They go to California. Their grandparents are the only people in the real world that they know, so that's where they head. They steal clothing and accessories from a sunbathing family on the beach, along with a few twenties and get themselves on the cheapest train they can find to take them out west. In anticipation, Reyna carries an old birthday card in her new jacket's pocket, an address scrawled in the upper left hand corner that she memorized long ago.

Reyna constantly finds herself adjusting her ill-fitting, low-cut top and smoothing her potion-less, frizzy hair. She wonders if she looks terribly out of place. It's only been six years, she thinks, looking at low-riding jeans and sweatshirts. Has fashion really changed that much?

She sometimes thinks she sees monsters in the corner of her eye—horrible women with snakes for hair or lions with scorpion tails—but they disappear in the speeding plains outside. Once she thinks she sees a pack of wolves. The pack leader stares intently into Reyna's eyes and Reyna feels all at once terrified and relieved. She blinks and the wolves disappear.

When they finally get to San Francisco, skitter up their grandparents' front steps, and press the doorbell, Reyna's heart stops beating as they wait for the door to open. Hylla grabs her hand and the steady _thump thump_ of her big sister's pulse calms her.

When the door finally opens, a middle-aged Asian woman looks at them curiously. "Can I help you two?" she asks.

"I hope so," Hylla responds, her hand squeezing Reyna's hand tighter. "We're looking for our grandparents. Julius and Arna Warden. Do they live here?"

The woman frowns. "The Wardens died ten years ago. They left this house to the university. As far as I know, their only son disappeared in a plane crash over twenty years ago. Are you sure you have the right names?"

Reyna feels the _thump thump_ grow faster in her palm. "That can't be right," Hylla insists. "Julius and Arna Warden. He's a classics professor. She's a doctor. They moved here _five years ago _at the absolute height of health. They can't be dead, let alone for a decade."

The woman steps out from the doorframe and stares straight into Hylla's eyes. "Who are you?"

"I'm their granddaughter Hylla. This is my sister Reyna. Please just tell us where we can find them."

The woman straightens. "Wait right here." The woman runs into the house and, after a few painful minutes, she comes out with a photo frame clutched in her hands. She fumbles with the back, peeling out a photo she seems all at once eager and reluctant to show them. Finally she flips it over for them to see. "Is this you?"

It is. Hylla is thirteen with flared jeans and long hair and Reyna is seven with a muddy dress and pigtails. Hylla clutches the photo from the woman's hands. "Where did you get this?" she hisses.

"It's from Professor Warden's personal effects. Those girls are you, aren't they?" she asks breathlessly.

"_Where are our grandparents?_" Hylla's voice becomes shrill and Reyna's hand is hurting from how hard she's holding.

The woman delicately takes the photo back from Hylla's grasp and turns it over. Scrawled across the back is _April 15, 1979_.

"So what? I'm eighteen now. People age."

The woman nods. "I know. But it's 2007. You should be my age."

Hylla steps back and Reyna feels like she's going to collapse. "No, that's not possible," Hylla insists. "I'm _eighteen_. I'm _eighteen_ and Reyna is _twelve_. This is _not possible_."

"I don't know how this happened, but I can try to explain to you what I do know. Please come in." The woman ushers them inside with a strong stare that even convinces Hylla to obey.

She sits them on a sofa with cups of strong tea and a haphazard arrangement of cookies. Hylla refuses to drink and repeatedly digs a nail file from her purse into the wood of the coffee table. Reyna is starving, but she crumbles her cookie onto her napkin to appease Hylla.

The woman sits opposite them with a manila folder full of papers. "My name is Margaret Chase. I was your grandfather's assistant at the university before he died. Generally his place is closed, but I give tours on Sundays. He collected a lot of wonderful documents and artifacts over the years. He was a brilliant man. So kind. I met my husband through him, actually." She smiles. "They liked to do war re-enactments together.

"Anyway, Julius spoke about you and your father often. Even though it was impossible that any of you survived, he always kept the hope alive. And in case you did, he prepared these for you." She hands the folder to Hylla.

Hylla opens it. It is full of handwritten letters, photos, and a map. "What is this?"

"These are your letters for Camp Jupiter. Julius said that it had been many years since the Warden family went to camp, but these letters should guarantee you a place in the best cohort."

Hylla hands the folder over to Reyna, who pores over the papers. A hand-written letter from their grandfather rests on top, signed Julius Warden, Legacy of Victoria. Attached is a photo of him in his twenties in front of a World War II bomber. She keeps sifting through the letters and is shocked by their authors—Douglas MacArthur, Legacy of Mars; Robert E. Lee, Son of Minerva; Alexander Hamilton, Son of Phoebus Apollo —all vouching for the honors and accomplishments of the Warden family over the past few hundred years.

Hylla crosses her arms, the nail file still twisting in her fingers. "Hold on. _Camp Jupiter_? What are you talking about?"

Mrs. Chase takes a sip of tea. "You are both Roman demigods—yes, I know. You two are among the strongest demigods based on your lineage—daughters of Bellona, legacies of Victoria. I have no doubt that your scent is strong and that you've been running from monsters for your entire lives. The only way you will survive is if you train with Lupa and join Camp Jupiter. The Twelfth Legion will protect you."

Hylla glares. "We can protect ourselves."

Mrs. Chase looks back at Hylla with hard eyes. "No, you can't. My own step-daughter ran away from home, thinking she could take on the monsters by herself. One of her best friends got killed. This is not a war to take on alone." She sighs. "I was so scared when the monsters came that I let my her leave without protection. I won't do that again. I owe it to Julius. I owe it to you. And I owe it to my step-daughter."

She leans in and taps on the manila folder resting on Reyna's lap. "You need friends. Go to Lupa. Train. The map will take you to the Wolf House."

With finality, Mrs. Chase stands up and takes the mutilated cookie from Reyna's hands. "By _Go_, I mean now. I have one last gift from your grandfather." She opens the door to the basement and two dogs come out. Reyna thinks she must be dreaming because they look like they're made out of metal.

"Their names are Aurum and Argentium."

"Gold and Silver," Reyna murmurs, the Latin translating in her head.

"Yes. They have been passed down through the generations and your great-grandfather received them as a gift for one of his good deeds. They can always tell if they are being lied to. They will protect you on your journey."

Argentium nuzzles against Reyna's legs and Aurum sticks his nose in Hylla's crotch. "Lovely," Hylla sniffs, pushing Aurum away. He whines.

"Good luck, girls. The road is long and hard before you, but I have no doubts you will succeed." Mrs. Chase smiles. "Your grandfather would be proud of the young ladies you have become."

Reyna picks up the manila folder and stuffs it in her stolen backpack next to her bag of drachmas and half-eaten tuna sandwich. She's about to rush out the door, following Hylla's lead, but she stops and turns. "What's Camp Jupiter like?"

Mrs. Chase smiles. "Your grandfather told me that it was his home. That's why he moved back to California. It's a place where you learn discipline and go on adventures and grow old with people just like you—boys, girls, demigods, legacies, fauns, ghosts! It sounds quite lovely, doesn't it?"

Reyna feels a warmth grow in her chest, something she hasn't felt in a very long time. "Thank you, Mrs. Chase."

Hylla rolls her eyes, but dips her head in a feigned sense of gratitude. "Let's go, Reyna."

ii.

On their journey to the Wolf House, they fight their way through monsters and storms and caffeinated pre-teens. During one perilous encounter with a vicious group of centaurs, they find themselves aided by girls who radiate silver like moonlight. They fight well, with devastating aim. After their blades and arrows are coated in centaur blood, the leader of the group stops Reyna from cleaning off her dagger with her sleeve.

"If thou drenches thy clothing in the blood of a centaur, thy clothing will burn thee to death," she states, offering instead a rag. Reyna takes it and wipes down her dagger and Aurum and Argentium's teeth.

The girl considers them with thoughtful brown eyes. "Thou fights with fire," she says, pointing to Hylla, "and thou fights with courage," she adds, pointing to Reyna. "The makings of a Hunter of Artemis like us. If Artemis were here, she would agree."

"What exactly would that entail?" Hylla asks.

"Living for eternity in the service of our beloved goddess, traveling the countryside to aid her in the hunt, and forsaking all men who might lead thee astray."

Hylla raises an eyebrow. "Let me get this straight. You travel around _the outdoors_ as personal minions to a goddess who can't even afford to put you up in a nice hotel? Not to mention, men are not meant to be _forsaken_, they are meant to be _dominated_. Ignoring the problem is your biggest oversight." She crosses her arms. "Thank you for the offer, but we'll have to refuse."

"We're on our way to the Wolf House," Reyna clarifies, as if offering an alternative will make Hylla's dismissal less rude. "To join Camp Jupiter."

"Speak no more," the girl answers, visage hard. "I accept thy refusal. But I do not think that Camp Jupiter will bring you the peace thou seeks," she says to Hylla. "I worry less for thou, young one," she says to Reyna, "but the road ahead is difficult for both of ye."

She slings her bow across her back and her Hunters follow suit. "Good luck with Lupa. She is one of the greatest untamed beasts of the wild. If thou thinkest Artemis a hard mistress, thou are to face an unwelcome surprise."

The girls disappear like the moon as the sun rises over the mountains. Reyna shivers in the tendrils of morning, the girl's words ringing in her ears. If Camp Jupiter is not their home, where will they go? And, worse than that—what if her home is not Hylla's?

Argentium nuzzles his head against her hand and she scratches behind his ear. His skin is cold against her fingers.

iii.

The reach the Wolf House. _House_ is a generous description. It's a burnt mess of stone and wood, a rambling mansion that is somehow both impressive and empty.

Reyna hears a low growl and one hand tightens on her dagger and the other on Hylla's hand. Out steps a wolf, regal in stature, smooth in movement. She steps down the steps with calculating eyes and suddenly Reyna is aware of how _tall_ the she-wolf is—bigger than Hylla, with mahogany fur. Argentium and Aurum stand at attention, ears pricked.

She circles them, sniffing the air. "Daughters of Bellona," she murmurs. "You seek to be legionnaires of Rome?"

Hylla looks at the she-wolf with the same shrewd air. "If we do?"

Lupa stops suddenly and her eyes sharpen. "There is no _if_. I have no patience for _if_. Do not waste my time. I will ask only once more: do you wish to become legionnaires?"

Hylla still looks standoffish, so Reyna reaches for her backpack. "Yes, yes we do. Our grandfather was Julius Warden, Legacy of Victoria. And I have some papers here that prove what I'm saying is true—"

The she-wolf growls. "I don't need _papers_, demigod. I need commitment. You will give me everything or lose everything. Do you agree to these terms?"

"I agree," Reyna says quickly. A moment passes before she realizes Hylla hasn't said anything. The air feels thick.

Finally, Hylla speaks. "I agree," she says, not quite a mutter, but not a declaration. "Train us."

Lupa raises her nose to the sky, as if sensing an oncoming storm. "We will begin now. And if you cannot stand the trials you face—I can assure you that death is the easiest way out."

iv.

Reyna wakes up every day too early and more bruised than the day before. Her skin is a map of their travels—scars of gryphon's talons ripping across her shoulder, redwood splinters piercing her palms, her own dagger's blade slicing her forearm, thigh, cheek. She runs with wolves and gets used to the burning feeling in her lungs and the dirt under her fingernails instead of polish on top of them and thinks that she must be uglier than she has ever been, but at the same time, she has never awakened with the same sense of purpose before. Despite her injuries, she is _good_ at this. She is a good fighter. Her mind, too hard for sorcery, can calculate a battle in milliseconds and devise and execute the best way of attack a half-breath later. Each day Lupa looks at her with less and less disdain and Reyna feels herself drawing closer to Camp Jupiter and the home that it promises.

Hylla trains just as hard, if not harder, than Reyna. She's always been an extraordinary athlete—an extraordinary everything—and here she is no exception. But despite her prowess, she doesn't smile in victory or cry out in defeat. Nothing seems to satisfy her. Reyna can't find the right words to get Hylla to dispel her secrets, so she stays silent, hoping that it's just a phase. Once they get to Camp Jupiter, it will all get better, she thinks. They won't be living off stream water and selectively edible plant life. They'll be home, with beds and a family of hundreds to keep them warm.

Lupa and her pack lead them all over the west coast, from saving migrant workers near San Diego from a swarm of harpies to rescuing the Portland Trail Blazers from some particularly thirsty empousas.

Finally, they rest in Seattle. "This our last stop before Camp Jupiter," Lupa promises. "If you make it through this final trial, you have my permission to seek out the Twelfth Legion."

Reyna is excited, but nervous. She is so close to her future, but the thought of it being taken away from her this close to the end haunts her dreams. In some, she is captured and tortured by Blackbeard on the Golden Gate Bridge. In others, she is eaten alive by a dissatisfied Lupa in the shadows of the Wolf House. And in the worst of them, she gets so close—running down the final hill toward her faceless family—only to feel a pain in her stomach and blood on her fingers and, in the last breaths of consciousness, she gazes up to find Hylla's hardened eyes staring back at her, empty.

Lupa has been tracking a beast of enormous importance, but she betrays nothing to her demigod charges. Reyna keeps close and stays with Lupa even when the rest of the pack, including Hylla, sleeps. The faster they find whatever Lupa's looking for, the faster Reyna gets to go to Camp Jupiter.

Reyna first sees it during one of her solitary hunts with Lupa. It appears in the corner of her eye at the cusp of twilight. It is a horse with brown skin that flickers gold in the dying sun: noble, with a strong neck and disdainful expression. All of these things make him the most beautiful horse Reyna has ever seen.

Of course, the moment he glimpses Lupa and Reyna, his eyes register both offense and fear and as quickly as he leaped into Reyna's vision, he disappears like he was never there at all. "What was that?"

Lupa growls thoughtfully. "Arion. He is the fastest horse in the world, son of Neptune and Ceres. He runs like the wind over land and sea and eats precious metals. It has been many generations since I've seen him. I worry that he is being hunted."

"The Hunters of Artemis?"

"No. They are…occupied at the moment. Regardless, they would honor Arion if they managed to best him. No, I worry that there are other interested parties who would be less kind." Lupa's stance is stiff. "They laid low for centuries, but they have grown stronger over the past decade. I worry about their intentions."

"Who?" Reyna asks.

"The Amazons. They are a tribe of the strongest and most ruthless female warriors, living by their own moral code. I do not know what their endgame is, but I fear that it is not the same as our own. They have always valued power over anything else. The way they rule their men is egregious at best, and a fine example of how they treat any outsider. I have no doubt that if they capture Arion, they will use him to exert influence over others."

Reyna shudders nervously. She has never heard Lupa speak so strongly against anyone or anything, except for Lycaon, who Reyna knows better than to mention. "So what do we do?"

"Stay close on his tail and pray that I am wrong. If he is in no danger, I will let you and your sister go."

"And if you are right?"

Lupa growls. "We will prepare for battle."

Reyna's breath catches in her chest. She has battled monsters before, but Lupa's words make her fear these Amazons more than any monster she has encountered before.

When Lupa and Reyna return from the hunt, Hylla is not with the pack. It's not unusual; Hylla often escapes for alone time when the pack is at rest. Normally, Reyna would curl up and fall asleep, waking to see Hylla polishing her blade. But tonight Reyna is itching to tell her about the beautiful horse and speculate about the dangerous Amazons and dream about how close they are to going to Camp Jupiter. So she stays up, curled into a ball with eyes wide.

Hylla returns before dawn. She tiptoes back to her place next to Reyna and inhales sharply when Reyna turns to face her. "Gods, Reyna. You scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to," she murmurs, propping herself up. "You were gone a long time."

Hylla shrugs. "Not longer than usual." She lays down, facing the fading night sky.

Reyna inches closer to her sister. "I've got something to tell you."

"'I'm tired, Reyna. I've been running for hours and Lupa will want us up at daybreak."

With a frown, Reyna lays back and also looks up at the sky. She tries to stop talking, let Hylla sleep, but her mind is spinning too much to stay quiet. "I saw what we've been following for the past week. It's a horse. A brilliant horse—beautiful and fast."

"Where did you find him?" Hylla's voice comes out quick, not drowsy, so Reyna eagerly continues.

"A few miles away. But it doesn't matter because Lupa says that he'll probably never return to a place he's been found."

"So how are we going to find him again?"

"Lupa said that he eats precious metals. So I guess we're mostly going to look at the local mines in the area to see if he's stopped for a snack."

"Precious metals?" Hylla murmurs. "That's how we'll catch him?"

"We're not trying to catch him. Someone else is trying to catch him. We're trying to protect him."

"From whom?" Hylla asks intently. "The Hunters of Artemis?"

"No. The Amazons. They're a militant warrior tribe. Lupa fears they'll hurt him."

Hylla scoffs. "She can't know that. A horse that fast? They could be using him for good."

Reyna shakes her head. "They shouldn't use him at all. He's free. He shouldn't be enslaved against his will."

Hylla doesn't respond. Reyna looks over and finds her sister turned away from her, sleeping on her side. Reyna turns the other way and curls her knees up to her chest. Despite her uneasiness, she wills herself to sleep. She's just tired, she thinks. We'll talk in the morning.

v.

"Wake up, child."

Reyna blinks awake to Lupa's anxious eyes mere inches from her face. "Lupa. What is going on?"

Lupa steps back and looks behind Reyna. "Your sister is missing. As well as your dogs."

Reyna snaps up. "What?" She looks behind her, as if Lupa were lying. "Where is Hylla?" She gets up frantically, spinning in a circle. "Aurum! Argentium! Where are you? I order you to come to me!" Her body shakes. "Where are they?"

Lupa looks at Reyna sadly. "I believe your sister has stolen them."

"Stolen them?" Reyna wants to laugh at the ridiculousness, but can't. "Why would she steal them?"

"Did you tell your sister about Arion?"

"Yes," Reyna sputters. "But what does that matter?"

"What does Arion eat?"

"Precious metals. But why—" It hits Reyna like a Cyclops's fist. "She's trying to lure Arion with Aurum and Argentium. But why didn't she wait for us?"

"Reyna," Lupa begins softly and, in Reyna's memory, it is the first time the she-wolf has used her name to address her, "I have long suspected that your sister's heart is not with Rome."

Reyna's breath stops. "No, that's not true. We're _family_. That is what is most important to Romans—to us. She would _not_ betray me. She wouldn't."

"I hope it is not true, but I am rarely wrong." Lupa sighs. "Regardless, we must find her and the dogs. If she captures Arion, I fear what she will do with him."

Reyna wants to defend her sister, her hero, but can't find the words. So instead she gathers up her weapons and follows Lupa and the pack into the forest, hoping that she'll just find Hylla on another one of her runs, with Aurum and Argentium clipping at her heels.

Lupa follows Hylla's scent until they reach a river. She curses in Latin. "Where has she gone?"

Reyna surveys the land around them. One way is a rock face with caves. The other is a clearing. "The caves. She'll need a good hiding spot."

The pack heads toward the caves and, after a good dozen yards, Reyna falls behind. Lupa unknowingly moves ahead without her and, after the pack has moved on a fair distance, Reyna doubles back toward the clearing. Hylla doesn't like trickery in battle. She prefers to meet her opponent in the open and crush them face-to-face.

As she gets closer, Reyna hears the howl of Argentium and the whinny of Arion and suddenly her legs burn as she runs faster and faster toward them. "Hylla!" she screams. "Hylla!"

When she gets there, Arion is kicked up on his hind legs about to trample Hylla, who has Aurum up like a shield. "HYLLA!" Reyna shrieks, and Arion stumbles, startled. He misses Hylla, misses the dogs, and disappears.

Hylla exhales a sigh of relief. "Thank the gods, Reyna," she breathes, standing. "I can always count on you."

Reyna slaps Hylla straight across the face. "How could you, Hylla? Grandpa gave them to us! And you used them as bait to capture an innocent beast, just to gain entrance into some cold-hearted sorority?"

Hylla lightly touches her reddened cheek, trying to stay calm. "Reyna, it's not what you think. The Amazons are right."

Reyna looks at her incredulously. "They're right to imprison a free animal?"

"No, they're right about how the world works." Hylla runs her hands through her hair. "It's not about fighting the good fight just to maintain the status quo. It's about _domination_. That is how we bring peace to the world. We're not pawns, Reyna. We're queens. And if we join the Amazons, we'll be treated as such." She begs Reyna with her eyes. "Please, Reyna. I would never hurt you."

Aurum leaps for Hylla's throat and she barely reacts in time to throw him aside. Reyna holds Argentium back from doing the same. "You're lying to me. You're my sister, my only family in the world, and you're _lying_ to me?" The words come out of her mouth, but she can barely believe them.

"Reyna, listen to me. You are so strong and so brilliant. Do you really want waste all that on this? This miserable life of following archaic rules, being an ordinary cog in an outdated machine, just for some hopelessly overbloated fantasy of having 2.5 kids and white ionic columns?"

Reyna's eyes flash. "Yes, Hylla! I want it. I want _all_ of it. I want to have a place to call home. I want a place where people are not struggling for power but share it equally. I want to make _friends_ and _fall in love_ and have a _family_."

Hylla's eyes grow wide and Reyna instantly pales. "Hylla, I didn't mean it like that. You're my family. I love you more than anything in the world. But I can't keep being the person you want me to be. I'm not a witch and I'm not an Amazon. I'm not even in the right time. But maybe, if they'll have me, I can be a legionnaire. I'll finally belong." Reyna takes Hylla's hands in hers. "Please, Hylla. I don't want you to go."

With surgical delicacy, Hylla removes her hands from Reyna's grasp and stands. "You've made your decision and I've made mine. Goodbye, Reyna."

Hylla walks away with such certainty that she almost fades away. Reyna breathes in sharply and clutches Argentium closer to her chest. The pain she feels—it's worse than anything she has ever experienced before. It's worse than what she endured with Lupa. It's worse than her father's death. It crawls into every atom of her being and refuses to let go.

She hasn't cried since they left Circe's Island so long ago, but now the tears fall like they never stopped.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued in <em>**_Part Three: Jason_**_:_

_"Apparently being a daughter of the Goddess of War did not prepare her for affairs of the heart."_

**Like, Dislike? Let me know and Review!**


	3. Part Three: Jason

**A/N**: Thank you all for the nice reviews! I'm sorry for the huge delay; the Jason chapter got out-of-control in length because I found myself actually a lot more in love with Jason than I thought I was. So now Jason's chapter is monstrously long and therefore I'm splitting it in two. This is Part One. Part Two should be coming around shortly, promise. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Part Three: Jason<strong>

i.

By the time Reyna peels herself from the clearing, her jeans are grass-stained and her eyes are swollen red. She returns to Lupa who offers neither consolation nor criticism, but merely tells her that the Arion has escaped and the final trial is done. Reyna may now go to Camp Jupiter.

Reyna makes her way to Camp Jupiter in a daze. For the first time in her life, she is alone. She thinks she should be terrified, but instead she can't feel anything. Her scars are merely bumps on her skin and her bruises discolorations warm to the touch. Her legs should grow tired at the pace she runs, but they keep going and going. She's not sure what's she running toward (or what she's running from). She just keeps going, hoping that she will feel again.

She sometimes hopes that Hylla will find her and then Reyna will tell her that she's given up on Camp Jupiter and that any happiness means nothing without her sister by her side. That she _can't_ be happy without her sister by her side. But even that seems wrong. Reyna has been searching for a home for so long that it never occurred to her that she might never find one at all.

So she goes back. She runs back toward Seattle, toward her sister, if not her home. Her heart is paralyzed, but her feet are not.

She is followed by beasts and monsters, but neither those nor the earnest whines of Aurum and Argentium are enough of a challenge to distract Reyna from Hylla's disappearing form replaying in her memory. At least, not until she finds herself face to face with a woman she knows without ever having met her. She has a long, dark braid and sharp eyes, and wears a leather jacket with jeans tucked into thigh-high boots. She looks like a badass superhero.

"Mother?" Reyna's voice is small. Her ring burns on her finger.

The woman nods. "Hello, Reyna. It's good to finally meet you."

Reyna has dreamed of this moment her entire life. The imagined conversations have ranged from screaming at her mother to collapsing in her arms in mournful sobs, and yet neither reaction finds its way onto her tongue. "What are you doing here?"

Bellona stands akimbo, her jaw held tight. "I'm here to tell you to go back to Camp Jupiter. The Amazons have nothing for you. You are meant to be a legionnaire."

Reyna blinks quickly. Here is her mother for the first time in her entire existence and she can't spare a simple kindness or—dare Reyna hope—word of love? Instead she orders Reyna around like she is a doll to be flopped around for the gods' amusement. Reyna's reaction begins to boil closer to anger than to tears. "I am _meant_ to be with Hylla," Reyna hisses out. "She's the only family I have."

The words come out with bite, but Bellona appears unmoved. "You and your sisters' paths were always meant to diverge. It's time that you grow without the darkness of your sister's shadow. You have proven to be an able warrior. But as my daughter, you are meant to be more than just that. You are a leader, Reyna, if you can prove yourself worthy of the title."

"And what if I choose to defy fate?" Reyna asks with puffed chest. "What if I choose to be with Hylla?"

"You are not an Amazon, daughter. You have too much heart." Bellona's mouth softens. "It is not a trait for an Amazon. But as a Roman—as much as we hold honor and organization sacred, we love quickly and whole-heartedly. These yearnings are inside of you, Reyna. You would flourish at Camp Jupiter, if you would give it the chance."

Reyna still looks at her mother with a cautious, trembling lip. Bellona reaches out to stroke her daughter's face. Her touch is warm, like the heat of battle. "I know I have not been there for you when you've needed me. But if you take anything from me, know this: I have always loved you and your sister. More than you know. I only want what's best for both of you. Do you trust me?"

Reyna doesn't know if she trusts her mother, but for the first time in a very long time, she feels something. She looks at her mother and sees the same eyes, the same hair, the same mouth that stare back at her in the mirror. She hears the word love. And so she nods.

Bellona smiles. "Good, my warrior. Now return on your way to Camp Jupiter. Train hard. Things have already been set into motion that cannot be stopped."

A tactical panic rises in her chest and Reyna opens her mouth to ask what exactly has been set into motion. But before she can say anything, she hears a sharp cry from behind her and she spins around. When she glances back, her mother is nowhere to be found, but her voice echoes on the breeze: "You will find your home soon enough."

She heads toward the cry, which grows larger the closer she gets. Finally, she sees a giant minotaur baring down on a boy in a plumed helmet. He is unarmed and scavenging his pockets, as if he's going to find a weapon in their shallow depths.

Reyna unsheathes her dagger and runs toward the monster, blade swinging and greyhounds following her charge. "Get away from him!" she shouts. Her shrill tone is just distracting enough that the boy manages to roll out from under the minotaur's legs.

Of course, instead of being useful, he just keeps rummaging in his pant pockets. Reyna remembers what her mother said—_you are a leader_—and she spearheads the attack. Aurum and Argentium each take a leg while Reyna leaps onto the minotaur's back. With steady aim, she stabs straight down through his spine and he disintegrates into dust.

She wipes the flecks of monster off of her clothes and her dogs' noses before assessing her saved victim. He looks a little awkward with a punched-in helmet and purple shirt, but when he manages to pull off his horribly ruined head accessory, Reyna loses the ability to breathe.

The boy is her age with sandy blonde hair and handsome features like a statue. The only word that comes to mind to describe his features is _elegant_, but she feels weird describing a thirteen-year-old boy with adjectives that were retired even before the 70s. So instead she bottles her beating heart and forces herself to breathe. "You're welcome," she offers.

"I had it under control," the boy says. He straightens. "I just couldn't find my coin…"

"Your coin?" Reyna raises an eyebrow. "You were going to barter for your freedom with a half-man, half-bull?"

"No, I—never mind." He wipes his hand on his pants—dirt, or maybe sweat?—and sticks it out. "My name is Jason Grace. Legionnaire of the Fifth Cohort of the Twelfth Legion."

He stands there for a moment, extended hand and salutation, and finally Reyna wills herself to respond in kind. She shakes his hand and her heart strikes faster. "Reyna Warden. No affiliation." She swallows her nerves. "Are you from Camp Jupiter?"

Jason looks at her cautiously. "Are you a demigod?"

Reyna straightens. "Aren't you?"

He looks at her like he trusts her. What a novel thing, from a stranger. "Son of Jupiter. You?"

The memory of her mother's strong stance and warm hand still burns bright in Reyna's mind. "Daughter of Bellona."

Jason looks like he's about to laugh or roll his eyes. "Seriously?"

She nods, although his confusion strikes her as peculiar. "I've been trying to find Camp Jupiter since I left Lupa weeks ago. Am I close?"

Jason gives her a half-smile. "Not even. I went a bit…_off the grid_, you might say. I'm running backup for my friend Dakota's quest. Anyway, he had just finished rescuing some of his dad's pet dolphins off the coast of Oregon when I caught wind of the Minotaur." He shrugs. "But with monsters of sea and land destroyed, we're on our way back. Do you want to join us?"

Reyna's heart beats fast in her chest. She's so close to Hylla and yet her mother told her to go to Camp Jupiter and since she can't really trust either of them, she doesn't know what she should do. All she knows is that when she looks into this boy's eyes—so blue, so warm, so unassuming—she knows what she _wants_ to do. "Yes. I want to join you."

Jason smiles. "Awesome. Dakota's probably a few miles off. You'll just have to bear with me until we reach him."

It doesn't really sound like punishment, but Reyna keeps that thought to herself. Aurum and Argentium match Jason's pace and he scratches behind their ears. "Nice dogs," he says.

"They're from my grandfather," she says. "He went to Camp Jupiter. He loved it."

"There's a lot to love," Jason agrees.

They walk side-by-side for the next hour, Jason regaling her with stories of Camp Jupiter and Reyna laughing at all the right places, not because she should, but because she can't contain the flicker of hilarity that tickles her throat. It's been so long since she's laughed and it feels good.

Finally, he turns the tables. "Tell me about yourself," he asks. "Where are you from?"

At least he didn't ask _when_. Reyna tucks her hair behind her ear. "All over. Mostly boarding schools on the east coast until I got kicked out. Repeatedly." It's the truth. Sort of. Hylla was always the reason she got kicked out.

"And your dad?" Jason clears his throat. "Unless that's too personal."

"No—it's…" It _is _too personal. "He was a journalist. He, um. He passed away a year ago." Not that time means anything anymore.

"I'm sorry," Jason says and he means it. "It sucks not having a mortal parent to help you out. For all the crazy parts of being a demigod—quests and battles and monsters—it seems like the human part of the equation is always the most important." His smile is all at once supportive and sad.

"And the most difficult," she adds. His smile turns more genuine.

She wants to ask him more about himself, but she doesn't want to invite more questions onto herself. So instead she gives him a sort of smile in return and simply asks, "How much further?"

"Not too far. We should be there—"

"Man, where have you been?" a voice growls out. Reyna draws her dagger, but Jason laughs and touches her hand lightly to tell her to put it away. His skin feels like lightning scorching the earth: electricity and burning.

"Dakota!" He calls out. "I found a new recruit."

A tall, muscular guy with black hair fumbles out in front of them. His eyes are uneven and he swigs from a flask. He looks Reyna up and down—at least, she thinks he does. It's hard to tell, since his eyes won't focus.

Jason makes way for introductions. "Reyna Warden, Dakota Issacs. Daughter of Bellona, Son of Bacchus."

"Bellona, huh? And she comes with her own doggie accessories. Nice find, Grace. Kool-Aid?" Dakota offers her gruffly, extending his flask. Reyna shakes her head.

"I figure we can take her back to Camp with us," Jason continues, ignoring the red liquid sloshing all over, staining the ground like a battle had been fought there.

Dakota nods. "Cool. I'm sure Beth'll be excited. Maybe you'll get Centurion out of it."

Jason rolls his eyes. "Let's go. It's a long journey back."

* * *

><p>They travel on foot for about a week. Dakota and Jason spend most of it making fun of each other. It strikes Reyna as odd that this is the longest time she's spent with a boy—let alone <em>two<em> boys—since she was eight. She loves it. They already treat her like she's a legionnaire and tell their stories like she's already a part of them—"When you and Gwen hang out, you need to find out if she still has that mixed tape Bobby made her" or "If you punch Don in the face, I'll give you five denarii"—and even though she still dreams of Hylla and her reddened cheek, she no longer doubts her decision to join Camp Jupiter.

Finally, they find themselves at the entrance of Camp Jupiter. It would look just like a maintenance tunnel if it weren't guarded by two legionnaires in armor. Jason greets them warmly. "Hey Bobby, Gwen."

They smile and offer each other claps on the back. "I guess you guys freed the dolphins?" Gwen says with a grin.

Dakota rolls his eyes—well, the right one rolls all the way around while the left gets stuck halfway. "Please don't say it like that. You make me sound like I'm in some sort of Disney movie."

"Who's the newbie?" Bobby asks.

"Reyna." She's surprised when her own voice comes out.

"New demigod," Jason clarifies. "We found her outside of Portland."

Gwen offers her a friendly smile. "Nice to meet you, Reyna." She looks at Jason. "I guess we should alert Beth and Kirk?"

"Might as well make an entrance," he says with a shrug. "Come on, Reyna. Let me introduce you to your new family."

Gwen opens the door and Jason leads them down a length of darkened tunnel. Even before she can see anything, Aurum and Argentium run ahead, howling in happiness.

Finally, they emerge. Reyna blinks rapidly in the brilliant sun and when her eyes adjust, she lets out a gasp. It is so beautiful—golden hills and beautiful forests and a _coliseum_. She stands there so long, just soaking it all in, that Jason has to shake her to get her to keep moving.

They wade through the Little Tiber—"Really?" she asks, "No bridge? No boats?"—and by the time they reach land again, the gates to Camp Jupiter have opened.

Two legionnaires in billowing purple robes lead the crowd of soldiers that begins to spill out of the encampment. "Praetors," Jason whispers into her ear. They introduce themselves. The first is Beth Sheppard, legacy of Mars—a tall blonde girl with a smattering of freckles. The second is Kirk Young, son of Minerva—a half-Asian boy with shocking grey eyes. Reyna knows that she's seen his eyes before—the same but different—but she can't place them. It's important, she thinks, but it fades like a secret locked away in her brain.

They look at Reyna with both suspicion and curiosity. "Identify yourself," orders Beth.

"Reyna Fulvia Warden," Reyna says, voice as steady as she can make it. "Daughter of Bellona."

Beth and Kirk exchange incredulous looks. "Bellona?" Beth murmurs. "We haven't had a son or daughter of Bellona in a generation. We didn't know if she had chosen to no longer honor Camp Jupiter with her children anymore. How did you make your way here?"

Jason speaks up. "She saved me from a minotaur near Portland. She is an able warrior and would be an asset to the Legion."

The crowd murmurs. Reyna suspects that Jason doesn't usually need help on the battlefield. Beth clears her throat. "We will question her in the _principia_ and then we will consult the auguries. Octavian!"

A skinny blonde boy fumbles forward. "Yes, Beth?"

"Wait for us outside the principia. The rest of you are dismissed."

Jason takes Reyna's hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry," he whispers. "You'll do fine. I'll save you a seat at dinner, okay?"

Reyna nervously nods. Jason squeezes her hand once more and then he and Dakota disappear into the crowd.

* * *

><p>Beth and Kirk lead her to the <em>principia<em>, with Octavian tagging behind. Neither speaks to her, although Octavian runs his mouth like he's the son of the god of _Oh-please-shut-up_.

Once inside, they question her. They aren't mean, but solemn and inquisitive. Her training with Lupa, her life before. She avoids telling out-and-out lies, but she doesn't mention Circe or Hylla or missing time. At her side, Argentium growls. Even from his owner, he doesn't like half-truths.

Finally, they are satisfied and release her into Octavian's custody. He takes her on, pleased, as he leads her through the temples. "I'm a legacy of Phoebus Apollo," he tells her proudly. "Did I mention that yet?"

Reyna should be on her best behavior with this, her new family, but in the presence of Octavian's grating voice, she can't help herself: "Several times."

Octavian shakes his head, unruffled. "Yes, well, because my lineage is so strong, I've become the auger for the Legion. Prophecies, messages from the gods. I'm pretty much the most trusted member of the Twelfth. A leader of sorts, if not _the_ leader. Not to mention, I'm a Centurion of the First Cohort. If you're lucky, you'll get to join us. We're the best."

Reyna thinks of Jason's blue eyes and blushes despite herself. "What about the Fifth Cohort?"

Octavian laughs. "A joke, at best. Certainly, they have Jason Grace, who proves to be…an _adequate_ soldier, given his parentage. But the rest—they lack direction, uniformity. They're practically Greeks, and I do not accuse anyone of that lightly. You can do much better than them. Let me show you."

He leads her to an altar decorated with assorted coins and winged shoes. "Mercury," Octavian notes with a flippant hand. "And this…"

He picks up a photo, dusty and discolored, like it had been spat upon. A teenaged boy smiles at the camera, dark-haired with elfish features. He's different, and yet—

"I know him," Reyna breathes. "Mikey—Michael Varus. He's a demigod? Is he here?"

Octavian looks at her, surprised. "How do you know him?"

Reyna suddenly blanches. She can't tell people she's from the past, that she's been aging at a miniscule rate while in the tutelage of a Greek sorceress. So she fibs out, "Dakota must have mentioned something." She smacks Argentium on the nose so that he won't whinny.

"Of course he did. Miserable drunk, always overstepping his boundaries." Octavian considers the photo of Michael. "Such a sad story. If only he had listened to the auguries."

"What do you mean?"

"He led a doomed expedition in the 80s. He thought himself quite the hero, fulfilling prophecies before their time. That's how we lost our eagle. Negligence and foolhardiness. Typical traits of the Fifth Cohort. I refuse to allow anything like that under my watch." He tosses the photo aside. "Shall we move on to the Temple of Jupiter?"

Octavian has already moved on. Reyna takes the photo and straightens it on the altar. She already has a distaste for magic and mysticism after her years serving C.C., and Michael's ghostly smile makes her sour at the idea of prophecy.

Finally, they enter the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. Octavian flourishes wildly before he brutally stabs a stuffed golden retriever and pours over its stuffing like a vulture over a carcass. "You may join the Legion!" he cries out triumphantly. "Not that I would have supposed otherwise." The look he gives her causes her to shudder.

* * *

><p>After a bath and a change of clothes, Reyna is brought to the mess hall for dinner. She is kept separate from the rest of the Legion, to the point where she can only hear the clatter of silverware and not see a thing. Finally Beth calls the Legion to order.<p>

"As you all know, we have a new demigod who wishes to join the Legion. Reyna Warden, Daughter of Bellona, please step forward," Beth Sheppard calls out.

Reyna maneuvers her way in front of the guards surrounding her and is suddenly overwhelmed by the number of eyes on her. She sees Jason at the opposite end of the mess hall. He grins and offers a wave. She blushes and looks away.

"What do the auguries say?" Kirk Young asks.

"I have read the entrails!" Octavian declares. "The auguries are favorable. She is qualified to serve!"

"_Ave_!" the soldiers cry. Jason's hail is the loudest and it almost makes Reyna laugh.

The senior officers approach Reyna. Sam Fletcher, the senior centurion from the Second Cohort, addresses her: "Recruit, do you have credentials? Letters of reference?"

Reyna pulls the papers from her backpack and hands them to Sam. He sifts through them, his mouth dropping a little further with each new reference. "She is also a legacy of Victoria," she proclaims to murmurs in the crowd. "Robert E. Lee…Douglas MacArthur…The letters are good. Which cohort will accept her?"

Reyna thinks that she sees Jason about to stand to his feet, but before he can, Jessica Hunter, centurion of the First Cohort, steps forward. "The First Cohort will accept her." She makes a face at the other centurions, as if daring them to contest her claim.

The First Cohort pounds their shields against the ground. "Congratulations, Reyna," Beth announces. "You are now standing on _probatio_ with the First Cohort."

Beth goes through the terms of Reyna's membership and then Reyna joins her new cohort for dinner. Octavian finagles a way to sit next to her and it takes every last bit of self-control not to smash his head into her tomato soup.

The only way she makes it through is by watching the antics of the Fifth Cohort a ways away. Dakota has already downed half a liter of Kool-Aid and Jason and Bobby are dropping different bits of food into his bottle—cake, pretzels, broccoli—waiting to see if he notices or, if he does notice, if it stops him from drinking it. Gwen is trying to get them to stop, but she only succeeds in accidentally throwing a cupcake in Bobby's face after gesturing too wildly. They may be the worst cohort in the Legion, but they look like the most fun.

That's okay, she thinks. It's not like she's very fun. She'd probably bring them all down.

Jessica shows Reyna around her new barracks and Reyna nods at the right parts of the tour and before she knows it, it's bedtime. Everyone falls asleep within minutes of each other, like they are all linked into one brain. Reyna tries to do the same, but she blinks awake an hour later instead.

She should just stay in her bed, but she can't sleep and she can't look into the darkness without it looking back into her. So she slips out of bed, grabs her backpack, and creeps out of the barrack.

The night is crisp and the grass is wet under her feet. She walks in a zigzag, lightly considering all these new buildings and whether or not they feel like the home she was promised.

They don't.

She manages to find a hose by the stables and flicks it on. She tilts the stream of water into the light of a candle and a flickering rainbow appears. She rummages in her backpack and pulls out her bag of drachma. It's been years since she's sent an Iris Message and she hopes she's doing it right. "Hylla Warden," she calls out, throwing her coin into the mist. "The Amazons."

The rainbow grows stronger for a moment before it flickers back into droplets.

Reyna picks up the unused coin. Maybe if she tries again in a week or so. Maybe Hylla's still on the run. Maybe she's asleep. Maybe Greek charms don't work on Roman soil. Regardless, she puts her drachma back into her backpack and stuffs it underneath layers of clothes and granola bars. She prays to any god—Greek or Roman—that the Legion doesn't find them. How could she explain having Greek money? The last thing she needs is for anyone to suspect that she's anything but Roman. This is her first real shot at being some semblance of normalcy and she can't ruin it.

She holds in tears, but they come out in ragged coughs. She should head back to the barracks, but she doesn't want anyone to see her cry. So instead she leans against the wooden wall of the stable and flicks away tears with her lashes and fists.

A melodious _neigh_ sparks at her ear and Reyna jumps to attention. There, next to her in the gated pasture is a pegasus. His skin is brown and glossy and his eyes are warm and his wings skim the stars even on the ground.

Reyna approaches him cautiously. "What's your name, boy?"

He throws his head back once and then points his nose at a sign on the gate—_Scipio; For Praetor Use Only_.

"Scipio." Reyna tries the name on her tongue. "A little bit of a mouthful, isn't it? Not that you don't look like a Roman general," she clarifies to a snooty _neigh_, "You do. Strong and proud. And beautiful." Scipio makes a more appreciate murmur.

She rummages in her backpack and finds half a granola bar. She breaks it into pieces and scatters it across her palm. Scipio looks at her as if assessing her virtue and, after deeming her trustworthy, plunges in. His tongue is large and rough—nothing like the flickering dance of tongue her father would use to lap up bits of carrot.

He finishes with a burp before trotting back into his field. Reyna thinks of it as another goodbye, but before she can turn to leave, Scipio gazes back at her and jerks his head. _An invitation_. She glances left and right—as if someone would be watching her from such obvious directions—and, with a determined look, jumps the fence.

She approaches Scipio with a tentative foot, but he's not about to have any of it. He rushes toward her with his mane thrown back in the wind. He lowers his hindquarters and Reyna jumps on with such ease that even before he takes off, she feels like she's flying.

Camp Jupiter looks bigger and smaller from the sky. The barracks are tinier, the coliseum a prick on a map. But the city—New Rome. It seems ever-expanding, consuming. A city of people like her, growing up and growing old. Drinking cappuccinos on terraces, eating gelato in parks. She clutches at Scipio's mane. Maybe one day. It's just the beginning, she reminds herself. One day she will be there.

* * *

><p>It's easier said than done. She excels at swordsmanship and strategy, but apparently prowess alone doesn't make you friends. Jessica is polite, but Reyna suspects that has more to do with the social obligations of Centurions. Octavian won't shut up, but Reyna's ears do. She keeps catching Jason and the Fifth Cohort out of the corner of her eye laughing between sword strikes and more than anything, she wants to drop formation and join them. But she's Roman now, apparently, and the rules matter more than the fire that strikes her chest when Jason returns her stare.<p>

He's part of the Fifth Cohort, she reminds herself, but he makes her knees weak and her cheeks hot. It's absolutely ridiculous and she has no plans to tell anyone because she's certain if she wills it away, it will go away. Fight, conquer, destroy.

Jason is the least of her problems, though. Whatever social traction she has made is lost within the first week. Brock Duarte, Son of Venus, catches her trying to send an Iris message to her sister. Reyna clutches the drachma from the flickering rainbow, but the damage is done. By dinnertime, everyone thinks she's a Greek sorceress trying to invade their camp. Even Octavian's near-stalker levels of one-on-one conversation mellow. She was promised a new family, but even they don't want her.

So instead of joining in on bonfires and ever-more-mortifying pranks at night, she sits with Scipio and brushes him, singing a melody that once had words. She cries for her sister, her father, Circe, Lupa. For anything known. And she prays to any god that will listen to end the homesickness.

* * *

><p>Jason finds her one night while she's brushing Scipio. "Past curfew, isn't it? Shouldn't you be back in your barrack?" he teases.<p>

She stands up straight and the brush drops from her hand. She gathers her bearings and sticks her nose up in the air. "Shouldn't you?" she sniffs.

"Touché," he grins.

He picks up the brush and then props himself up on the fence, sitting mere inches from Reyna. "He's beautiful, isn't he?" he says, handing her the brush. "You have a way with him."

Their hands touch and she wills away the breathlessness in her chest with limited success. So obviously the thing to do when one can't control one's physical reaction is to cover it up with a verbal attack: "Do you think I'm a bitch?"

Jason looks at her, completely taken aback. "No. Of course not. Why would you think that?"

"It's just—" she sighs. "I'm calculating. I'm cold. And besides you, no one in the Legion wants to be my friend."

"That's not true."

"Really? No one calls me '_graecus_' or '_veneficae_' under their breath? I'm not stupid, I'm not Greek," she says, crossing her arms, "and I'm not a witch."

"I didn't say you were," he murmurs. "Admittedly, you're a little weird. I've never seen anyone have such a hard time operating an iPod before," he says with a smile, "but you're not a bitch. People here—they gossip. They hold grudges. It doesn't mean it's right. They're just jealous of you. Look at you—daughter of _Bellona_, absolutely beautiful, waging warfare without compare. You're a bit of a badass, Reyna."

She suspects the core compliment was that she was a good fighter, but Reyna takes away the words _absolutely beautiful_ and stitches them into her heart. She has never been called anything even close to cute before and here is this Roman statue of a boy telling her she's beautiful. She blushes.

He looks up at the stars in the sky, as if counting his company. "It's tough being alone here at camp. So many kids here—their families have been coming for generations and they have bunk beds with their last names etched in them. Some can even visit their parents in the city. Worst case, they have other demigods from their same godly parent to rely on. I don't know who my mother is, where I'm from, where my sister is. I don't even know what this ridiculous scar is from," he laughs, pointing at his upper lip.

Reyna looks at the scar intently—small, old—before she realizes she's staring _at his lips_. She looks down quickly.

"Anyway," he continues, unfazed, "you'll get used to it. We're a family and every link is as strong as the one next to it. You'll see. Soon you'll be irreplaceable."

Reyna nods. Intellectually, she understands, but in her heart—"Do you miss your sister?"

"Yes," he answers clearly. "It's strange. We were separated when I was two, but she's so clear in my mind. Black hair, fierce eyes. Her name is Thalia. She protected me. I loved her." He looks down. "I still love her."

Reyna, normally so stuck in her own head and boundaries, finds her fingers slipping into Jason's hand. She never suspected. The golden boy of camp had lost just as much as she had. Her heart beats and breaks in time with his. "I have a sister, too."

"What's her name?" Jason asks.

"Hylla." It's the first time she's spoken her sister's name aloud since she's come to Camp Jupiter. "Her name is Hylla." The tears start in her eyes. "I miss her so much."

Jason's fingers tighten around hers. "What happened to her?" he asks quietly.

Reyna begs the tears not to fall. "She chose to join the Amazons. Circe—she told us that men were dirty, filthy. That we as women should always dominate them. I guess Hylla agrees."

"You don't?"

Her father's eyes flash in her memory. "No." She shakes her head. "No. I miss Daddy."

Her vision blurs and suddenly she's wrapped in Jason's arms and her tears are wetting his purple t-shirt. His arm is strong on her back and she remembers the tightness of her father's embrace. She cries harder.

Jason is just a boy, barely thirteen. Reyna is just a girl, barely holding on. They are barely friends, but in that instant, they become family.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued in <em>**_Part Three: Jason (Cont'd)_**_:_

_"His lips taste like cherry Kool-Aid and his tongue is sweeter still."_

**Like, Dislike? Let me know and Review!**


	4. Part Three: Jason Cont'd

**A/N**: You are all the best. I'm glad that you like it. Please enjoy this chapter and have a very merry holiday season! :)

* * *

><p><strong>Part Three: Jason (Cont'd)<strong>

ii.

Jason is right. Well, he's right about a lot of things (not that Reyna would ever tell him so), but he's right about how Reyna becomes an essential member of the Twelfth Legion.

For the first time in her life, Reyna feels worthy. Her sharpness makes her a top tactician and incomparable warrior. She makes friends within her cohort that are _not_ Octavian, but feels the freedom to hang out with Jason and his cohort whenever she needs a little bit of fun (or maybe just some Kool-Aid).

Sometimes she and Jason hang out one-on-one—it's not _that_ big of a deal—and when they're not sparring, she sits pressed against his shoulder and they look up at the stars and they talk about family and home and laugh and sometimes cry. Her heart comes together piece by piece and Jason's fingerprints are on each one, guiding them into place. She's beginning to feel things she's never felt before and the loss of control terrifies her. It's been a long time since she's trusted anyone, let alone a boy, so she suppresses any desire she has to kiss him senseless. Instead she gives him a hard time about his miserable attempts at playing the cithara and tips for leading the Fifth during war games and if she also gives him her heart, she doesn't tell him any more than she tells herself.

Apparently being a daughter of the Goddess of War did not prepare her for the affairs of the heart.

* * *

><p>Everything seems to happen very quickly. She becomes a full member of the legion after a particularly gruesome slaying of a Cyclopes caravan taking chariot supplies somewhere further east. Less than a year later, she is made Centurion of the First Cohort when Jessica Hunter matriculates into Stanford. Octavian almost drools on himself, as if Reyna would suddenly hook up with him because they were now the metaphorical mother and father of a cohort of soldiers.<p>

Normally, being a Centurion is an honorific title bestowed upon the best soldiers in each cohort. You command your cohort during war games and defend them against other unruly campers. You laugh and lead and eventually move on to the Real World or perhaps just New Rome. It's not like in the old days when you would lead your cohort into battle against Titans and Gods.

At least, that's what Reyna expects. It isn't until Beth Sheppard is killed on a quest to Alcatraz that the legion realizes the severity of the situation. Kirk is reluctant to replace her too quickly, but in a time like this, there is never a want for battles to raise up a new praetor. Sam Fletcher, Centurion of the Second Cohort, is elected to replace her.

Suddenly war games aren't games anymore. Reyna is _fourteen_ and a _war general_. It is almost laughable if there weren't so much blood. She's never had to handle a dead body before, not even her father's, and soon her hair won't stop smelling of ash from the burning pyres.

Octavian spews prophecy like a cobra's venom into camp. _A Half-Blood of the eldest gods shall reach sixteen against all odds...the hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap…_

Jason is the only child of the eldest gods at Camp Jupiter and his fifteenth birthday ends up being the most grossly over-compensated event to have ever occurred. There are balloons and Hannibal is decorated in silly string and streamers. Dakota's spiked the punch bowl with extra sugar and legionnaires are jumping around like nymphs from Apollo.

"It's probably not even a current prophecy," Jason remarks over cake. It's ice cream, his favorite. "And you know what happens when you try to fulfill a prophecy out of time."

Reyna picks at her icing. "Mikey Varus."

Jason sighs audibly. "It'd be just like Octavian. Predicting my death so that I do something irrational and kill myself and he can run the camp. He hates anyone more popular or more powerful than him."

"You're not going to die, Jason," Reyna says. She wills it true. "Consider it a birthday present. No matter what happens. I will beat down the Doors of Death before I—before Camp Jupiter loses you."

He looks at her with eyes like the oncoming night. "Promise?"

She nods. "I promise."

iii.

When the First and Fifth Cohorts band together to defeat the Trojan Sea Monster, Reyna and Jason return as heroes. The victory is bittersweet, however, when they find out that Kirk Young was killed—along with over a dozen members of the second, third, and fourth cohorts—defending the camp from invaders. "_A trick_," Reyna spits out with fire. "To leave New Rome undefended."

The Feast of Fortuna is a mere week later, resulting in elections for the new praetor. Octavian and his supporters make a strong case for him, while the lower cohorts prop up Jason—the son of the eldest god who defeated the Trojan Sea Monster and doesn't make people want to claw their eyes out. Arguments go in circles and it's obvious that the two sides are deadlocked.

That is, until a small voice fights through the crowd. "I nominate Reyna Warden."

Reyna almost falls over herself in shock. She turns her head to see Gwen standing firm. "I nominate Reyna Warden," she repeats. "She is a daughter of Bellona, a brilliant tactician, and one of the heroes against the Trojan Sea Monster. She serves with dignity and ability." Gwen smiles at Reyna. "I can't think of a better praetor."

Reyna still doesn't know what to say and then another voice speaks—"I second the nomination!" It's Jason. He gives her a wink.

Suddenly the entire senate is behind her nomination—even Octavian finally falls in line. "So it will be," Sam declares. "Reyna Warden, you are our new praetor."

Reyna hasn't said a single word, but suddenly she finds herself on the shoulders of her fellow legionnaires, praying that she won't fall.

* * *

><p>"You know, I've been here eleven years and I only made Centurion last year," Jason notes with a shrug. "You're a little bit of an overachiever, Reyna."<p>

"Oh please," Reyna rolls her eyes. "You deserve this more than I do. You're the one who literally flew up into the air and dealt the final blow."

"Ah, but _you_ came up with the brilliant idea to seek out Aeolus to find the sea monster in the first place and then thankfully convinced Octavian to let the First Cohort back me up on a doomed quest." He sighs. "Anyway, I'm part of the cursed Fifth Cohort. You can't trust us! If I were in charge, I might lose Hannibal or Skippy." At Reyna's look, he corrects himself—"I would never lose Skippy." Jason, more than anyone else, had taken to her nickname for Scipio.

She smiles, but it only lasts for a moment before darker thoughts invade her mind. "Can I tell you something? You can't tell anyone else, especially not Sam."

Jason leans dramatically across her bed. "Please don't tell me that you're secretly dating Octavian."

Reyna throws a pillow at him. He catches it with a grin. "I'm being serious, Jason."

"Fine. Serious. Go."

Gingerly, Reyna sits down on the bed next to Jason. She takes her spare pillow and holds it close to her stomach. "I'm scared that I'm not the right one to lead the legion."

Jason sits up. "Hey. You are _definitely_ the right one to lead us."

She shakes her head. "No, I'm not. I got this job because Octavian refuses to let you become praetor and the rest of the legion has enough common sense not to allow Octavian to become praetor. I'm the least offensive of all alternatives." She inhales deeply. "Worst of all, I'm the reason Kirk and all of them got killed. I should have realized the monster was a distraction. A true tactician would have realized that."

Jason shakes his head. "No offense to Sam, but I trust you more than anyone here. You are the best tactician we've got—no, don't argue. No one realized that Kronos would send his forces against the camp. But you saved the entire Fifth Cohort from certain destruction and that takes brains _and _bravery." He tucks a loose curl behind her ear and Reyna shudders lightly. She can feel the heat of his body radiating onto her skin and it makes her slightly dizzy. "You're relentless and loyal and willing to stick up for every member of the Twelfth, regardless of if they have twenty letters or none. You are _my choice_ for praetor. Anyway," he smirks, "it's not very Roman to turn down power."

A few years ago, she would have agreed with him that she's not very Roman at all, but there's something about his confidence in her that makes her want to be the best Roman legionnaire the world has ever seen. "Is that so?" she considers with a half-smile. "Well then, I suppose I should accept that I am now _your boss_."

He mock salutes. "Aye, ma'am."

"In that case, I would like an ice cream sundae, soldier," she orders with a twinkle in her eye.

"Whipped cream?" he asks, still at contrived attention.

"And a cherry," she adds. "Are you up to the challenge?"

With delicate grace, Jason suddenly drops the super-subordinate façade. His eyes clear, he looks at her earnestly. "I would do anything for New Rome and her elected praetor."

In his wide blue eyes, Reyna forgets about the titans rising and all of her responsibilities as praetor. She might not be perfect, but for the first time in her life, she has people relying on her, believing in her. The best people. And she'd rather die than let them down.

iv.

The way up to Kronos' black throne is filled with enemies of every shape and size. In anticipation of the greatest battle of their lives, the entire Twelfth Legion Fulminata follows Reyna and Sam into the fray. Reyna has never fought so many monsters and, to her surprise and horror, human demigods. The image of she and Hylla on opposite sides of a fight won't leave her mind as she stabs a demigod through the chest. He doesn't disintegrate, but falls lifelessly to the ground.

They make it up the mountain, step by step. The normally orderly Twelfth Legion has dissipated into a Greek-like mess of disorganization. Reyna screams for the ranks to remain tight and then—_wham!_ She is slammed against the rock face. She tries to stand, but instead she coughs up blood.

A drakon ambles toward her, scales like sheet metal and breath like the depths of a volcano. Reyna reaches out for her dagger, but her fingers can barely reach the hilt. She urges herself to a kneel, then one foot, then the other, and grabs her dagger as the drakon barrels down on her.

Suddenly, it screams and bursts into dust. Reyna shakes, tightening her grip on her weapon, expecting to see Jason or Sam coming to her rescue.

Instead, the dust settles and reveals Hylla. She's older, face thinner, and she's inexplicably wearing a black jumpsuit, but it's Hylla. Reyna resists the urge to cry out.

Neither says anything. Instead, Hylla just looks at Reyna with sad eyes—_I tried so hard to save you from all of this. I'm so sorry.—_and Reyna hears her heart beat in her ears like the sound of the ocean.

"Reyna!" She turns and sees Jason, who has managed to make it to the entrance. The way is clear, but the relative peace won't last more than a few seconds. "We've got to go."

"Hylla—" Reyna spins around. Her sister is gone.

* * *

><p>When Jason plunges his sword into Krios, the titan is about to pummel Reyna with his fist. Krios falls to his knees and disintegrates.<p>

Jason runs to Reyna, who has a javelin in her ribcage. Blood drenches her uniform, her hair, her everything. Jason pulls her into his arms and the blood starts to stain his jeans like her tears used to stain his shirt. "Reyna. Hey, look at me. Stay with me."

Reyna tries desperately to keep her eyes open, but she's so tired and the pain in her chest is unbearable. "Did we win?"

"We won. We did it. _You_ did it." Jason brushes her hair from her face. "Come on, Reyna. You've got to stay with me." He swallows hard. "Dakota! Gwen! Dammit, _anyone_! I need help. Gods, I need—"

He presses his hand into her wound, and it hurts even though she knows he's just trying to stop the blood flow. "Jason, I—I have to tell you something."

"Shh, Reyna. You're going to make it."

Her breath catches in her throat. "No, I'm not." A drop falls on her face and then another and she realizes Jason is crying. She's never seen him cry before and it scares her more than her impending death. "Don't cry. I order you not to cry."

"You can't tell me what to do," he says defiantly, but his voice is hitched onto a ragged throat.

"I am your praetor and you will do exactly what I tell you to do. So stop crying."

He blinks rapidly, and the tears halt for a moment. That's all Reyna needs.

"You are the greatest warrior out of the entire legion, Jason. I couldn't have done this—done anything without you. I was all alone and you saved me. I want you to replace me. You're the only one I trust."

Jason cups her face in his hand. "Stop talking like that."

"Stop interrupting me! Please, Jason. Just listen."

With a slow nod, Jason agrees. "I'm listening."

"Promise me that you will become praetor. Promise me that you'll take care of everyone. Promise."

"I promise." He presses her wound harder.

Reyna hisses and coughs. She tastes blood on her lips. It's now or never. "And…I just wanted to say...you're my best friend. You're my family. You're my home. And I-I—" She tries to form the words in her mouth, but her tongue feels fuzzy.

"Hey, me too." Jason leans in closer. "Me too."

The last thing she feels is Jason's kiss on her lips.

v.

As the dust settles, Sam steps down. Leading the legion for almost the entire length of the battle against the titans has aged him—his eyes are harder, his voice hoarse from shouting. He doesn't retire to New Rome or go to college or any of the things former praetors tend to do. "I'm tired, Reyna," he says in the hushed tones she grew used to over countless battles and plans. "I need to be alone. Travel. For a son of Mercury, I've stayed in one place for much too long."

He leaves the next day. The only trace of him is a note stuffed under Reyna's door: _Take care of them. Take care of yourself_. She holds the note to her chest and prays that Sam finds the peace he seeks.

Based on his defeat of Krios and his subsequent ride on the shields of the Legion, Jason is elected praetor and Reyna tries to hide the glow rising from her chest to her eyes.

There's been so much change so quickly that Reyna expects it to keep happening. It's strange that the return to normal is what surprises her. Eating dinner, playing war games, punishing legionnaires who inadequately clean their barracks—things she almost forgot but she comes back to like a well-worn bicycle. Even Jason quickly falls into the role of praetor like nothing major had happened for the past few years.

They don't talk about the kiss. If anything, Jason avoids spending time with her one-on-one. She asks him to play a round of Myth-O-Magic, he invites Bobby. She suggests he meet with her at her praetor house for war game strategizing and he insists they meet during dinner instead. It's almost laughable how bad the excuses get—she knows he doesn't take two hours to shower, for crying out loud—so she decides to take matters into her own hands.

One night, after the Senate disperses, Reyna asks Jason to stay back with her in the _principia_. With plenty of witnesses, he can't back out. Octavian gives him a snide look that is both jealous and condescending, but Jason ignores him.

When the door closes them in, just the two of them, Jason shifts with nervous energy. "What's up, Reyna?" he asks, sliding into his praetor chair as she closes the doors. "I will never get over how comfortable these are." He pats the arms of the chair for good measure, hands refusing to settle down.

Reyna takes a deep breath. She's prepared everything—her accusation of his boyish immaturity, her confession of her feelings, their romance for the ages—and she opens her mouth to start reciting. Unfortunately, one glance into his blue eyes startles her into incoherence. Instead, she fumbles out, "How is Hazel doing?"

"You wanted to talk to me about Hazel?" Jason raises an eyebrow. "You barely allowed her into the Legion and haven't expressed the slightest interest in her since she came."

Reyna bites her lip. "It's just that I worry about her." She averts her eyes from his, trying to think clearly. "It can be difficult, that's all. Two powerful demigods against the world, one at Camp Jupiter, one gods know where. I want to make sure her transition goes smoothly. That we become her family if Nico isn't up for the challenge."

Jason leans forward on his knees. "That's what this is about," he murmurs. His blue eyes are earnest. "You should contact Hylla."

Reyna pales. "That's not what I meant," she insists.

He shrugs. "I would never force you to do anything you didn't want to do. But you can't deny that you _do_ miss her. It's been four years. Maybe it's time to let bygones be bygones." Jason gives her a solemn smile. "I would give anything to see my sister again."

Jason rarely talks about Thalia ever since he spent the winter break of their thirteenth year looking for her, coming up with a local New York newspaper article about a girl matching Thalia's description who was killed in a forest fire. There was no body.

Reyna looks down. How does he know her so well and yet not at all? "I'll consider seeking out Hylla," she concedes.

Jason shrugs. "That's all I ask." His eyes meet hers and she realizes that that's all he ever has to do and she'll say yes.

"You know, you might be more trouble than you're worth, Jason Grace," Reyna remarks with an upturned lip. "Questioning my motives, allowing any demigod off the street to join the Legion. Sam never gave me this much difficulty."

"That's why you love me," he answers. Reyna blanches and he coughs quickly. "I'm just doing my job."

"And you do it well," she responds, mouth dry.

A moment passes, stagnant. Finally, Jason shifts upright in his seat. "Is that it?" he asks. "Not that I—I'm not in any rush. After all, we haven't really had a chance to hang out in a while. Not just you and me."

Reyna hopes her cheeks don't blush too brightly. "We haven't." she confirms. She summons her courage. "It's about time to feed Skippy. Walk with me?"

Jason smiles. "Always."

* * *

><p>They walk side-by-side to the stables. His hand brushes hers once, twice—four times, but who's counting? They prop themselves up on the fence and, after feeding Skippy more-than-generous servings of Kool-Aid and apples smeared with his peanut-butter namesake, they sit in silence, gazing up at the stars.<p>

Jason speaks first. "Kool-Aid?" he asks, offering the rest of his cup.

Reyna shakes her head. "I'm good, thanks."

With a nod, Jason takes a swig from his cup. He looks back at the stars, drinks again, and then clears his throat. "Listen, Reyna—I'm sorry I've been so weird lately. It has nothing to do with you. I mean, it does, but…" His voice drifts off.

Reyna's breath stops in her chest. She can already hear his voice in the silence: _It was a mistake. An oh-gods-we're-dying reaction. It meant nothing._ She holds her hands tightly in her lap, waiting for her eventual destruction, like a warrior cornered without a blade. "It's okay." The words somehow find their way out. "I get it."

"No, you don't," he says. It comes out deeper somehow. Reyna can feel his voice vibrating to her core. "I've wanted to tell you this for a long time, but I couldn't find the right words." He looks up at the stars, as if they will whisper the right words to him. "You mean a lot to me, Reyna."

Her heart skips a beat. "You mean a lot to me, too," she answers.

A moment of silence passes and then Jason finally looks at her. Reyna is suddenly aware of how close they are. His eyes are dark as they flicker from her eyes to her lips and back. "Reyna, I—" His words are rumbling again.

Reyna is a tactician, a warrior. She calculates the best route to success and executes it. And if that plan fails, she fights her way to success.

So when Jason doesn't pull away, she closes her eyes and kisses him. His lips taste like cherry Kool-Aid and his tongue is sweeter still. His hands find their way into her hair and hers find their way onto his chest. They kiss and kiss and Reyna feels every pretense she's ever put up melt away.

When they part, Jason's breath matches hers while her heart beats twice as fast. His face, normally so serious, won't stop smiling and, gods help her, it's contagious.

He walks her to her door and he kisses her once more for good measure. "I'll pick you up for breakfast tomorrow," he murmurs.

She lets her gaze fall across every feature of his face, memorizing everything from the sparkle in his eyes to the scar on his lip. "Promise?" she asks.

"I promise," he answers, squeezing her hand. His eyes are brighter than Apollo's chariot.

Reyna has never had anything but nightmares, but that night she dreams in happily-ever-afters.

Jason disappears the next day.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued in <strong>Part Four: Octavian<strong>:_

_"__Reyna unsheathes her dagger and draws it to Octavian's throat. He swallows hard, his body trembling. He's not a warrior, but a _politician_. It makes Reyna sick."_

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